


Deck the Halls (not your co-worker)

by Kalee60



Series: Kalee's Stucky Christmas One-Shots [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Christmas Party, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, POV Bucky Barnes, Slight pining, Snark, Top Bucky Barnes, office workers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:33:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21800992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalee60/pseuds/Kalee60
Summary: Bucky wouldn't say he hated Christmas, but it also wasn't his favourite time of year, especially the thought of having to schmooze with people at the inaugural SHIELD Christmas party. A party he had now been tasked to organise - with Steve (stupid idiot) Rogers.How in hell was he supposed to survive the holiday season having to assemble a damn Christmas function with his sworn work enemy?He was just going to have to use his Barnes smarts and either get kicked off the two-man committee or push a certain blondes buttons until Rogers had no choice but to quit.It shouldn't be hard to get out of it. It's not as if they liked each other after all...
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Kalee's Stucky Christmas One-Shots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1570972
Comments: 50
Kudos: 451





	Deck the Halls (not your co-worker)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all,
> 
> So this is the first of a couple of one-shots that I came up with for Christmas.
> 
> I always wanted to try out a small challange of using random prompts to inspire me and [ darter_blue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darter_blue/pseuds/darter_blue) found some great ones on Tumblr.
> 
> This one came from the below prompt:
> 
> Character A and Character B, sworn enemies, are chosen to prepare the company Christmas Party.
> 
> Hope you enjoy this random work of crazy!

Steve Rogers was a Certifiable dick - complete with a capital C.

No, Bucky was _not_ being too harsh on the man who looked like he could bench press The Rock holding John Cena, all whilst wearing ‘comfortable’ loafers and thick rimmed glasses - which was an oddly specific image; though Bucky would probably pay money to see it. No, he was a dick because he put up road-blocks and had counter arguments on every suggestion Bucky put forward to the senior managers in their weekly SHIELD department meetings.

He scowled as Rogers talked about merging two divisions and wanted to point out how awful the idea was, problem being - it made sense. Damn the logical, sweater vest wearing accountant. It annoyed him more because Rogers just kicked Bucky’s idea about a new marketing strategy to the curb, citing it wasn’t ‘mature’ enough for the company.

Bucky coughed loudly just to be contrary, and a bubble of pleasure engulfed him at Rogers sharp look and following glare. _Mature enough_ , what a joke, Bucky was plenty mature.

“There’s water by your elbow, James - if your throat is scratchy.”

“Roger that, Rogers.”

The blonde grimaced at the line and Bucky slid the water jug over and poured himself a glass, smirking the whole time while his work nemesis continued on with his idea.

“So I believe if the Finance team sat with the Payroll team on level five then -”

Bucky slurped his water loudly, knowing he was pushing buttons, but he got too much enjoyment out of Steve's incredulous look.

“- collating payments will run smoother - “

He placed the glass heavily on the table and pulled the water jug forward again, scraping it over the table. The best part - no one else in the meeting noticed or realised what he was doing. Only Rogers, who had the beginnings of a beautiful blotchy spread of red climbing his neck to his face. Bucky was pleased to note, Steve Rogers was an ugly blusher. 

“- therefore combining resources and saving time. James anything to add?”

Bucky froze, _oh, hell no_ \- Rogers did not just call him out. At the expectant looks he received from the managers in the boardroom, he did. That little (big) shit.

Scrambling for something to add, he blurted out the first thing he could think of, “well... level five is all well and good, but do you really want payroll so far away from the kitchen and therefore coffee on third?”

What was that? How on God's green earth was that suggestion a value add?

“Actually it’s a valid point,” Coulson the payroll manager agreed, and Bucky wanted to kiss the man’s slightly balding head. More so, as he usually sided with Rogers on everything, there was some weird one-sided hero-worshipping thing going on there. Bucky for the life of him, couldn’t see what was so special about the blonde number-cruncher.

Meanwhile as Bucky’s heartbeat resumed normal baseline from the near-miss, he felt the heaviness of a disappointed gaze on him. Grinning at Rogers tense look, he felt validated when he saw him shake his head in disbelief. But he wasn’t finished, not by a long shot.

“Although,” he tapped his finger on his chin in contemplation for good measure, “what if we put a coffee station next to Peter’s old desk in the back corner on level five?”

“Actually that could work - good suggestion, James.” Coulson replied.

He watched Rogers run a hand hard over his face in frustration, dislodging his glasses and almost chortled in glee, this was turning into the best meeting ever. 

Bucky could no longer pinpoint why all those years ago he and Rogers began their rivalry, their contempt of each other, it was just commonplace now. The sun rose every morning, you never expected your name to be spelt correctly on your Starbucks cup and Barnes and Rogers disliked each other.

“OK, so anything else on the agenda?” Fury asked, as he packed up his papers.

“Oh, shoot - yes, the staff Christmas party. We need two event coordinators.” Maria piped up. Bucky tried and failed at repressing a shudder. He wasn’t a fan of forced work gatherings. They were borderline pretentious with people vying for the higher-ups attention, then add in drinking around people you didn’t know well enough to have a laugh with. It was a dangerous concoction. Bucky tried to avoid them at all costs. He wasn’t the biggest fan of Christmas anyway - never had been. He looked over his coworkers in the meeting and realised most of them looked pleased at the idea of discussing Christmas - especially Rogers, whose grin was bright and excited. Rogers was the one person guaranteed to wear festive ugly sweaters from December one and always decorated his cubicle with baubles and tinsel. It was sad - he was one of _those_ people; which incidentally was _not_ why Bucky had been against showing office Christmas spirit from about, oh - three years ago.

“Right. Steve, you’ll be an organiser this year,” Fury started, then looked around no nonsense at the others in the room. Bucky almost laughed, _ha_ , the person who’d be paired up with Rogers would be a poor sucker indeed, “and, James.”

“What -”

“- no way.”

Wide blue eyes met his across the boardroom, and Bucky knew he looked like a deer caught in headlights. Oh, this would _not_ fly. He couldn’t work _with_ Rogers. Not on something as inane as a Christmas party. It was hard enough working on the same floor as him, even though they were on opposite ends and only saw each other for a maximum of ten minutes per day (not counting the laborious department meetings).

“Hill has all the details on your budget and HR policies to follow. OK, everyone, see you next week.” Fury stalked out and the others filed after him, chatting amicably, which left the two of them seated. Alone. A situation Bucky tended to avoid at all costs.

“So… I guess we should -” Rogers began with a long suffering sigh, but Bucky held up a hand to interrupt him, which surprisingly worked. Trouble was he had nothing to say - he was still processing, and by that - he meant he was in denial.

“Look, er, I have a lunch date. Can’t stay, so I’m just… Gotta go.”

As he fled the room, he heard an exclamation of, ‘unbelievable’ chase him out of the room.

Christ, Rogers wasn’t wrong.

  
  


"I can't do it. Like, I legitimately can't.” Bucky scraped his hair off his face into a messy bun and scowled at Natasha who just returned his gaze with a slightly raised eyebrow, which in Natasha speak was ‘you fucking idiot’, but it didn’t stop him. “He's the biggest most frustratingly annoying pain in my ass and I can't even comprehend being in the same room as him, let alone dicking around organising a Christmas party - Nat, Christmas! You know how I feel about that." 

He took a huge bite of his pastrami sandwich (which was bigger than his head) humming around it and shrugged at Natasha’s disgusted look at the mess he’d made. He loved their local deli and their apparent disregard to heart health.

Bucky knew he was overreacting and being a brat about it all, but for some reason, this week - it really got to him. Maybe when Rogers shot down his proposal for a paperless workplace earlier on in the week along with his ‘mature’ comment, the anger had carried through. His ire for the blonde was at dangerous heights. Just because _Rogers_ enjoyed mountains of paper all over his office didn’t mean that Bucky did. His desk by comparison was all clean lines and everything had a spot. Rogers’ looked like a WWII bomber had exploded across the face of it. Quite frankly, it was embarrassing for a grown man to work in such a shamble.

“Look, it’s only for eight weeks, just agree on a venue and a theme, get it done now and then you don’t have to speak for the next seven.” Natasha suggested as she sipped her latte.

“Not the point.”

Natasha sighed heavily and looked skyward. Bucky was treading on thin friendship ice at the moment, mainly because she was SHIELD’s human resources manager (and scary good at it). At first he was wary of the no nonsense, extremely professional woman, but when he'd found her outside on a park bench one lunch playing League of Legends in a link-up with her boyfriend, well suddenly there were three people in the campaign. Trouble was - she was also friends with Rogers. How on earth _that_ happened he didn't know. Rogers was a stick in the mud who wouldn't know a fun time if it stepped up and smacked him on that perfect jaw of his… perfect? What?

“No, I have a better idea. I know _exactly_ what to do.”

Natasha smirked over her coffee cup, “act like an adult, maybe?”

“What? Of course not - don't expect miracles.”

Natasha sighed and looked at her watch, then raised an eyebrow again, _uh oh,_ “well what is it then, I'm waiting in rapt anticipation.”

“Sarcasm doesn’t become you… actually that’s a lie - you’re radiant when sarcastic, but no. I'm going to make Steve quit the Christmas party committee job, or annoy him so much that he fires me, happy with either outcome honestly.” Bucky sat back pleased with himself.

“Right. Because that sounds like a solid mature plan."

“Why thanks, Nat.”

“I just want it on record that I don't condone this.”

“Of course you do.”

“Sure, hotshot, sure.”

  
  


The first meeting of the CPC (Christmas Party Committee) started about as well as expected. 

Rogers arrived ten minutes late, flushed with a gaudy red folder complete with a cartoon Reindeer on the front; clearly bursting with ideas. 

Bucky brought coffee for one, and no paper or pen.

He wasn't intentionally being a wanker about it all, but in the same breath - he was. He wanted out of CPC, or for Rogers to opt out.

If he were honest, he had some pretty awesome ideas for the party, things he'd like to try, catering with a difference, entertaining games but classy. Actually make it enjoyable for once. But he would keep them under his hat until things had come to a natural conclusion with Rogers.

"Sorry I'm late, got stuck on a call with T’Challa about the upcoming budget."

Bucky took a slow sip of coffee, surprised Rogers bothered to apologise, it wasn't his usual M.O. He raised an eyebrow in mocking amusement.

Rogers glanced up, eyes widening as if he just realised who his meeting was with, and that he’d made a faux pas, "right, so I've done costings for venues, and -"

"- already?" Bucky interrupted, being a dick ( _his_ usual M.O.) he did work in Marketing after all.

Rogers stopped and glared, "of course. I assume you have as well?"

"Well you know what they say about assuming..."

The glare didn't waver and Bucky smirked.

"So you haven't done anything then?" The 'not surprised' under his breath made Bucky want to defend himself, because he _had_ done some research. But that wasn't the point. 

Rogers let out an uncomplimentary noise, "look, we only have eight weeks."

"Perfect, so there’s no rush then? I'll get a few costs together, for say, next week or the one after?"

The breath which hissed out between Rogers teeth was extremely satisfying. Bucky eyed his coworker as he proceeded to open the ridiculous folder, shoulders tense, which only made his eyes slide to their broadness. The sweater vest Rogers wore, strained against his (unusually large) chest and Bucky couldn't help wonder why he wore such form fitting items of clothing to work - it was distracting. Looking at the whole package abstractly, his suit pants also hugged his thighs and ass like they were tailored for him, and if he wasn't such a dick, Bucky would genuinely be attracted to Rogers. _Well_ , at one point he was attracted, when they first met, then they butted heads and irritation took over the previous sentiment. But he was adult enough to admit the nerd look suited Rogers, it played to his strengths. 

Bucky on the other hand _always_ wore three-piece tailored suits, he knew they brought out the best in his physique. Because he worked in marketing and constantly flitted in and out of meetings, the clients he met with had an expectation from SHIELD employees, especially as it was a well-known firm. Bucky also worked out a lot, just to fit into them. It was a torrid loop, but worth it - sometimes. He really missed sleep-ins and potatoes.

"You _do_ realise, even this far out from Christmas, booking somewhere for 250 people will be -"

"- a piece of cake, I know." Bucky finished, smiling his most charming of smiles.

Rogers stopped and watched Bucky's mouth a moment, before rubbing a hand over his face tiredly.

"This isn't going to work." He finally said and Bucky perked up. Surely it wasn't that easy. "But we’ll make it work, Fury chose us for a reason. Just look through these venue proposals and we can meet tomorrow afternoon when you've got your list."

Rogers passed over a wad of information. Damn it.

Bucky was going to have to try harder.

  
  


"Ok, so hear me out." Bucky started as he walked into the meeting room the next day, holding exactly one piece of paper.

Rogers looked up, frowning when he saw the single sheet, then whispered, "this ought to be good."

"Oh, sorry - what was that?" Bucky asked saccharine sweet as he unbuttoned his suit jacket and placed it on the back of his chair with a flourish. He found Rogers watching him closely as he settled into his seat, looking almost flustered, but before he could decipher the look further, Rogers shook his head.

"Um," he looked uncomfortable at obviously being overheard and Bucky revelled in it. Rogers was going to slip up and quit the CPC, he could feel it in his bones. The blonde motioned towards an empty food container on the table. "I just remarked my salad from lunch was good."

They both knew he was lying through his teeth, especially when Rogers’ ears turned pink, but Bucky played along. "Oh, it’s from Lorenzo's right?"

Rogers nodded slowly, clearly not understanding why Bucky was being polite. It was all part of his ploy to play it hot and cold, but he had to admit Rogers looked adorable when confused. Abhorable - he _meant_ , abhorable… that was a word right? Definitely _not_ adorable.

"Uh, yeah, I like their range and they’re priced accordingly."

Trust an accountant to take lunch prices in the city into consideration. Bucky probably spent too much of his wage on takeout, but he knew Lorenzo’s well, and begrudgingly agreed with the assessment.

"You should try their fenugreek and lentil salad if you haven't already - bellissimo." Bucky smacked his lips and noted Rogers eyes move to his mouth for a second before flicking away. Did he have something on his face? He’d had a shake for lunch and shouldn’t have. But he wiped his mouth just in case, he wanted to look professional after all.

"Oh, ok right - thanks?" Rogers ended on a question and Bucky liked the fact he seemed more off-kilter at him being nice than the reaction he got when sarcastic. He might have to change-up his game plan and incorporate more of this to unsettle the large man. 

"But anyway, the reason we are here today is that I've found the perfect activity for Christmas." He held out the flyer, handing it over and watched with bated breath as Rogers face went from a light golden tan to blotchy red. This was so worth it.

"Your…" he spluttered, then frowned hard, steeling his gaze to meet Bucky's. _Oh_ , it was intense, and very, very blue. "Your idea is pole dancing?"

"Well yeah, not watching it - you creep. Jeez, Rogers, who do you think I am?"

He didn't wait for a response, "it's a class. A Christmas class. You even get a Santa costume to take home as well at the end."

"It's a red sequined g-string, with mistletoe hanging on the back, James," Rogers deadpanned.

"And…?"

"And... I’m late for a meeting with…” he looked wildly around the room, “... Bruce."

"But we’ve booked for an hour?"

"Yeah, I forgot about it."

Rogers bolted and Bucky sat back in the chair, hands behind his head and patted himself on the back for a job well done.

His plan was working, he was certain of it.

  
  


"What?" Bucky snapped into his phone, ignoring the startled look from Wanda who sat one cubicle down from him.

"Is that anyway to greet your best friend?"

"Clint, don't test me bud, you may want to turn your hearing aids down. I'm about to explode."

The muffled laugh he heard down the hallway made him scowl even more. Who the fuck found his pain funny?

"Christ on a cracker, what's got you so pent up? Cute coworker giving you grief?"

"There is no such thing as that in this office."

Clint merely hummed in response, so Bucky grunted.

"Some jerk-off has programmed my phone with a Christmas song and no matter what I do, I can't goddamn get it back to normal."

"Is that all? I mean, it _is_ that time of year if you think about it."

"It's Mariah Carey, All I Want For Christmas..."

"Aww, no. Ok, so take a calm breath, and put the scissors down."

How the hell did Clint know what he held in his hand? Bucky loosened his grip on the shears.

"Don't try to mollify me, Clint. I’m not in the fucking mood."

"Well it's either me doing this or Natasha, but I can call her if you want?"

Bucky threw his head back against his chair and closed his eyes in frustration. "Urgh, no. It’s fine."

"You want to come over to ours for pizza and Legends tonight? Help you through this?"

"Yup, sounds great. I'll grab some overpriced hipster beer as well, want anything else?"

"Good man.” Clint paused a second, “but you know that all I want... for Christmas, is you."

Bucky hung up. Clint was a fucking smart ass.

His phone rang almost immediately.

"Clint, I'm warning you, I'll bring cheap beer that tastes like sex in a canoe if you don’t stop."

There was a beat of silence, "ok, now I'm curious, what does that even mean?"

Bucky baulked. It wasn’t Clint, but Rogers. Who from all accounts sounded _way_ too amused. 

"It’s fucking near water."

The deep throaty laugh down the phone line did weird and strange things to his insides, the song was officially screwing with him. "What do you want, Rogers?"

"Oh nothing, just checking in." Then the douchebag hung up. His phone rang again and Bucky knew he would need painkillers for the headache this song was going to cause. He’d even consider a memory wipe - though that didn’t sound like something he’d enjoy.

"Barnes." He answered curtly.

"Oh, sorry, must have accidentally dialled your number again." Rogers hung up.

It took longer than it should have for Bucky to cotton on to what was happening.

"Rogers, you sneaky bastard. Well played, well played. It is on."

  
  


Before he knew it, Thursday had rolled around, meaning it was his weekly date night with Natasha and Clint. He wondered if it was healthy that his social life tended to revolve around those two, but he didn’t care - they were pretty brilliant, when Natasha wasn’t hounding him about his love life - or lack thereof (one night stands are not a love life, James). He disagreed. 

Clint had gone off to take a phone call, which left Bucky guarding the booth they’d secured while waiting for Natasha to arrive.

Taking a long pull of beer he glanced around, eyes stalling on a man at the bar. _Whoa_ . Shoulders that broad paired with such a waist should be outlawed. His hands would fit perfectly over those hips from behind, and… Bucky _really_ needed to get laid.

Maybe tonight he could seek out some company _,_ even if it was a school night and he had an early meeting. His gaze lowered appraisingly, _some very specific company_ as he eyed the wet dream leaning over the bar.

The dark denim jeans fit snug on the man's tall muscular legs and the light grey t-shirt hung loose in the waist but tight over those delicious shoulders. Bucky practically swooned when the man moved to grab his wallet out of his back pocket, muscles tensing and rippling beneath the tight layer of fabric.

His gaze slid to the right, seeing a familiar redhead standing next to the specimen of the century. He was about to jump up and head to Natasha so he could use her as an excuse to bump into the stranger, when she turned towards them, drink in hand. The man beside her also spun, and Bucky swallowed his tongue, coughing, beyond mortified.

Oh fuck.

It was most definitely not a man to lust after. Fucking Rogers.

Bucky's face flamed in embarrassment, thank christ Clint was on the phone so he didn't get caught in his transgression on finding Rogers, what? He didn’t even want to admit it to himself. 

As the two made their way over, Clint returned and whispered under his breath, "be cool, Buck."

"I always am." He snapped back, making Clint snort in amusement.

“You know you guys are actually really similar and have a lot in common.”

“I’m going to pretend you did not just lump me in with tall, annoying and dopey.” 

Rogers was _not_ wearing his usual office attire, there was nary a sweater vest or starched shirt in sight. The grey henley showcased, _well_ , everything. Rogers worked out.

Not that Bucky cared. At all. He could dispassionately admit another man was _alright_ to look at.

His eyes didn't get the memo though, they kept creeping back to Rogers expansive chest and the two pesky buttons which were purposely popped open. He felt anger rise at his brains inability to differentiate between, lay and foe.

Why was he here? This was _their_ date night, Natasha, Clint and him, had been for years. Every Thursday night they met at Monroe's Irish pub for Guinness, pie, board games and shit talking. Rogers was not a part of it. Although shit talking him wouldn't be hard.

"James." Rogers nodded, looking a little uncomfortable, almost like he too had no idea Bucky would be here.

Bucky took another long pull of beer, trying to tamper down the unwanted attraction zinging down his spine.

"Rogers." He finally replied curtly.

Natasha gave him a look, clearly it said 'play nice', but damn it, he was an adult. He could act like a child if he wanted. It was after all, his prerogative.

"You know what this place is lacking?" Rogers remarked after an awkward silence which Natasha or Clint refused to fill - traitors.

"Nothing, because this bar is an institution and perfect the way it is." Bucky snapped, offended on behalf of the bar.

Rogers lip tilted, almost smiling as he held up a hand to placate. "It just needs a pool table, that’s all."

Bucky smirked superiorly, "well it just so happens we have it booked for eight." 

He gestured to the far corner where the table was partially hidden from their vantage point. Rogers brows drew up in pleased surprise, looking enticed by the table and Bucky couldn't wait to wipe the floor with him. He was an ace when it came to pool.

An hour later as Bucky rested on his cue and watched Rogers sink another ball, he realised the accountant just might _also_ be an ace at pool. His competitive side reared its head. Then Rogers leant over in those jeans - which should have carried a warning label (may induce heart palpitations in unsuspecting enemies) and something else tried to rear its head. Bucky was not prepared for this.

They played with no conversation, just snarky comments which started small but as the games continued, they became almost ridiculous. Bucky would not admit that he was almost enjoying himself, no matter how many times Natasha nudged him when taking a shot.

“Jeez, Rogers with pockets that big I could find two balls immediately.”

“I’m sure you could, but you’re not playing with yourself tonight.”

Bucky stifled his snort of laughter. It was interesting to note that the rivalry from work had translated to a teasing rivalry at the pool table, still snarky but not as heated. It was a revelation of sorts. Bucky wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

Clint and Natasha soon tired of their posturing, ignoring them to play a game of Jenga at a table next to them, and although Rogers wasn't his favourite person in the world, he was actually not hating his night. But he wished Rogers wouldn’t wear those jeans again, it was scrambling with his natural ire for the man.

Then the blonde missed an easy shot, "what's wrong Rogers, your mom teach you to play?"

Rogers face did a complicated twisting thing, before he placed the cue down and quietly said that he'd be back in a minute.

Natasha leant over as Rogers disappeared to the toilets, Bucky _did not_ watch his shoulders disappear between other patrons, he just saw something in that direction, is all.

"Hey - you're being a dick."

"I'm always a dick."

She sighed, "ok, sure, you are. But seriously lay off Steve for one night, right?"

"Why should I? All I Want For Christmas, Natasha. For a whole week."

"Impressive, I know."

He scowled at her, yes it was impressive, but he wasn't going to admit it, even on pain of death.

"Look, I know you don't see eye-to-eye with him," at his look, she grinned, "alright, you _think_ you dislike him intently,” she ignored his grunt of protest, “but he needed a night out."

"So did I. It wasn’t my idea to bring him along, so he needs to just deal with my wonderful brand of personality."

"His mom died."

Bucky stopped breathing, shame flew through his body and he felt like the biggest oblivious dolt in the world. No wonder Rogers appeared softer and less antagonistic tonight. "Uh, wha… why didn’t you say anything? … Fuck."

"Oh, God, it didn’t just happen now. I mean, I really should let _him_ tell you, but he won’t, he’s not good at - sharing. So it was last year. Today. He just needed to not be alone."

Instead of answering, because he really didn’t have any words to offer, he patted her shoulder to indicate he got it. Her green eyes softened at him, she knew he understood, so he headed to the bar, stomach in turmoil. Sure, the guy was a dick, but losing a parent, _well_ , Bucky knew how that felt - intimately. He groaned, a heavy uncomfortable weight in his gut as he realised he'd made a damn crack about Steve’s mom. He felt lower than low.

As he grabbed a round for the table, including a shitty Corona which he ordered accidently, he made a decision to be less of a cock towards Steve, at least for the night.

The blonde looked surprised when Bucky placed the Mexican beer before him, but tilted the bottle in thanks before taking a drink, deep blue eyes less tense than they’d been moments before. 

Maybe Steve wasn't such an ass, but regardless, Bucky still wanted him off the CPC.

  
  


It only took one department meeting after their pool night for Bucky’s brain to remember that his coworker was a prick. Steve... Rogers insinuated that Bucky hadn’t calculated the marketing costing thoroughly enough on the Stark merger. Bucky saw red (and was also coming down from a three day caffeine induced craze from working those figures out - they were perfect, thank you very much). He managed to not argue his point in front of Fury, but now he had to go back and do the calculations again and was absolutely livid.

So his plan to lay off Rogers slightly with the CPC planning meetings was thrown in the trash. He deserved every bit of contrary James ‘Buchanan’ Barnes he was going to get.

“I was thinking canapes on arrival, one champagne then a sit down -” 

“- _boring_.”

“Excuse me?” Rogers incredulous voice asked across the table as Bucky rifled through, then pushed aside the paperwork Rogers had given him at the beginning of the meeting.

“It’s boring. No one comes to these things for one champagne and a piece of piped creamy salmon paste, ugh on a stale cracker.” Rogers winced at his hacking, vomit noise. 

“Oh really? You didn't even let me finish the proposal.”

“You didn’t need to. One word - yawn.”

“Are you twelve?”

“I may identify as twelve. Don't judge me.”

“You're impossible, we have limited time to get a venue booked, then all the rest of the organising we have to do, and you are probably the most unhelpful person on the planet.” Rogers voice rose an octave by the end and Bucky felt smug satisfaction at finally riling him up. Pity it wasn’t in front of Fury, but he would take a win any way he could get it.

“The planet? That’s just mean. But no, I don't want this party to suck.” He took a second before continuing on, “I want people to party, hearty Marty.”

Rogers took his glasses off and placed them on the table, it was not a sexy gesture at all. Just because Bucky may have downloaded librarian porn in the last week didn’t mean that the man before him was the influence. Rogers ran a hand over his face tiredly, and Bucky wondered if there was anything else on his mind, not that he would ask, nor did he really care. He was still too frustrated about having to re-do the figures.

Sighing, Rogers looked up, “did you really just quote Scrooged at me?”

“Uhh… “ _shit,_ “no. Of course not. I quoted Bill Murray.”

He didn’t mean to let the movie quote slip into conversation, Becca made him ( _ha_ , made him) watch it on the weekend when they went to his moms and it was fresh in his mind. He visited because Winifred had things to do around the house that only a man could accomplish. Seriously, his mom had hung more doors and unclogged more drains in her life than he ever had, but it was sweet she used such a lame excuse to see him. He also wasn't going to say how nice it was to hug her for a few seconds longer after hearing about Rogers mom. He even said a few words to his dad’s ashes, and he hadn’t done that in months.

More surprising though, was the fact Rogers knew the exact obscure line he’d used from his favourite Christmas movie (ever). He was startled to note the longing which welled up at wanting to ask Rogers if he liked it too, what his favourite part was, but they weren’t friends like that. Or friends at all. 

Wait - did that indicate he _wanted_ to be friends with Rogers? It wasn’t an altogether awful consideration - was it? Natasha and Clint seemed to like the guy. He was so confused.

“Wasn’t Bill Murray playing Scrooge though?”

“Sure, but not _Scrooged_ as you said.” He was being really contrary, it even irked him.

“Right.” Rogers caught his eye and seemed to deflate a little, “I… look I didn’t mean for Fury to make you, you know - do all of that work again I’m sure it’s fine - I just…”

Bucky stared as Rogers trailed off, mouth agape. His earlier anger already dissipating, purely due to Bucky’s continual confusion at how he _should_ feel versus how he _actually_ felt, but this - this was unexpected.

“Are you - are you _apologising?_ ”

Rogers huffed out a breath, “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Of course not,” Bucky demurred noting the half smile he received. Was it getting hot in the small meeting room? It was definitely warmer.

“Ok then. So what do you suggest, Van Wilder?”

 _Wow,_ Rogers was pulling out _all_ the references today, “I suggest, scotch.”

“Scotch? Ok, and...?”

“That’s it. Scotch. Oh and maybe Cards Against Humanity - I’d love to see someone explain to Barbara what felching is.” 

Rogers pinched his nose between his finger and thumb and Bucky swore he heard the hint of a smothered chuckle. It was gone before he could confirm, but it made his chest flutter. 

“I’ve been saddled with a nincompoop.”

“A what-now?” Bucky barked out a genuine laugh.

The accountant exhaled slowly and put his glasses back on then handed over a few more pages on different venues with a shy grin. He was relentless in this Christmas quest, Bucky would give him that.

Steve still didn't quit, but it didn’t annoy Bucky as much as it had the previous week.

  
  


“Ok, so he was being the biggest dick. So I -”

A manly shriek from down the hall stopped Scott’s anecdote about his daughter’s soccer game and how the referee ended up with a broken windscreen. Bucky did not smirk or smile at all and looked as genuinely puzzled as the others in the kitchen at the unexpected noise.

“Glitter? Really - Christmas glitter?” The yelling came closer to their location.

Steve came stomping into the room, his glasses covered in little shining red reindeer and a smattering of tiny gold trees in his hair, one errant tree hung by its boughs on his bearded chin. Bucky bit the inside of his cheek to stop the grin which threatened to spread.

“Oh, I thought you loved Christmas decorations, Rogers?”

“Barnes, glitter is _not_ Christmas.” He rasped back, angrier than Bucky had ever seen him as he took his glasses off and started to shake the pieces away. They fluttered colourfully to the ground, he didn’t envy the cleaners extra work tonight - glitter was a bitch. He was however, gutted he missed seeing the explosion from Steve opening his supply cupboard. It took him ages to rig it up.

He walked closer, unconcerned that Steve would attack him like a rabid bear. He picked a reindeer off his cheek and held it up, grinning at the blonde. He suddenly realised how close they were and the fact he’d just touched Steve’s face unsolicited, who also must have just come to the same realisation if the sharp intake of breath was anything to go by. Bucky took a quick step away, heart racing. Steve’s eyes were huge as he stared unblinkingly back.

“What happened?” Scott asked as he looked between the two of them, “How the hell did you get all of that on your face?”

Steve visibly snapped out of whatever he was thinking and spun, a terse, “ask, James,” thrown over his shoulder. 

Scott looked at him expectantly, Bucky shrugged, “ok, so he was being the biggest dick. So I -”

  
  


“You can't be serious? We are not having a fifty foot hot air balloon with Santa arrive at the party.” 

“Why not?” Bucky asked wide-eyed and innocent, it was one of his better looks he thought, made him appear cute, as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. Steve was ignoring it, clearly unaffected. Bucky frowned, obviously he needed to work on a new look.

“Because it's not only ridiculous, but it wont fit into the budget.”

“Ok, well what about a thirty foot balloon instead?”

“No.”

“A chair with a bunch of helium balloons?”

Steve gave Bucky a wry look in response.

“Think of the children though.”

“What children?” Steve asked exasperated.

“The children from the choir I’m hiring.”

Steve threw his arms up in the air. “You’re impossible.”

But Bucky noticed the slight tilt of a smile, he wasn’t even trying to get kicked off the CPC anymore, And if he were honest, he'd be disappointed at this point if Steve quit, he was going to tone it down and actually do some serious work. But he’d still give shit to his coworker, it was addictive at this point.

“Honestly, James, we need to make a decision - today.”

“Well it’s not from lack of trying on my behalf, I’ve put up a million sterling ideas.”

Steve chuckled then gave him a searching look, heat spiraled down Bucky’s spine twisting low into his gut, he moved in his seat. Steve’s eyes were bluer than the sky in summer - they were… really beautiful.

“Truce?”

“What?” Bucky garbled, still off kilter at his revelation on Steve’s attractability and his surprising response to it.

“Truce?”

“Oh, no I heard you, my question still stands though.”

“You are such a -”

“- wonderful fellow, full of wit.” Bucky interrupted with a smirk.

“You're definitely full of _something_ that rhymes with wit.”

“Holy crap, did Steve just make a joke?”

“Huh, _oh_ …”

“What?” Bucky asked, concerned at the surprised look on Steve’s face as his voice trailed off.

“Um, well, that’s the first time you’ve ever called me Steve.”

Bucky swallowed thickly, “oh… er, sorry?”

“No!, No, it’s alright, just unexpected, nice unexpected.” Steve raised a hand to the back of his neck and rubbed it for a moment, a flush spreading across his cheeks, not blotchy this time, but warm and inviting. Bucky’s mouth lost all moisture.

“Bucky.”

“What?”

“Well if I call you Steve, s’only fair you call me Bucky. It’s what my friends call me.”

“Oh… right. Bucky.” Steve tried it out on his tongue and Bucky really didn’t need to think about his tongue right now, not when he looked this soft, this pleased. _Shit_ , Bucky was the one who inspired that look, simply by using Steve’s first name and offering his in return.

Bucky knew his face was flaming, how on earth could Steve uttering his nickname be more intimate than being naked and laid open with any of his one night stands? 

The rest of the meeting was almost a love-in compared to the snarky ones of the past, coming to an agreement on a venue within their allotted hour. They even managed to joke with each other genuinely, it was… nice. Really nice.

He left the room almost certain he _liked_ Steve. What parallel universe had he slipped into?

  
  


Thursday nights at the pub now apparently included Steve. Bucky was not as against it as he thought when Natasha told him point blank that they now had a permanent extra. His acceptance of the new normal probably had something to do with the fact that it was easier to play boardgames and pool with four, and absolutely nothing to do with how Steve looked in those jeans (seriously did the man only own one pair?) Bucky was in no way, shape or form complaining but - _seriously_.

Bucky also knew he was once again being a little distant and stand-offish to the accountant in his revelation that he had stopped disliking Steve completely. It was years of conditioning which only took mere weeks of being in each other's company to tear down. He had no idea how Steve felt about him, he assumed he was feeling more friendly, but it was sometimes hard to tell because Steve was genial by default and now Bucky fell in that middle category. 

He still liked shit-stirring though, that would never change.

“So you kids get the Christmas party sorted?” Natasha asked while eating a sticky chicken wing and making no mess in the process - she was god-like sometimes.

Steve gave Bucky a look through his lashes as he leaned in to take a bite of his food. Bucky’s stomach swooped, the chicken was probably not cooked properly. Steve finally replied with a smile, “you know what? I actually think we did.”

“This chucklehead,” Bucky teased and pointed at Steve, “was impossible to work with though.”

“Excuse me? Mr, if-we-don’t-get-a-live-reindeer I-will-die.”

“I never actually said die.” Bucky protested and tried another chicken wing, surely they weren’t poisoned.

“It was insinuated.”

“Jeez, Steve - don’t be a dick.”

He grinned unabashedly and Bucky’s stomach flipped sideways - oh no, he was beginning to realise it _wasn’t_ the food. 

“Same again?” Steve asked and went to buy drinks at the confirming nods.

“Do you realise you’ve always called him Rogers, unless he's wearing those jeans.”

“Oh fuck off, Nat.” Bucky responded with no heat. “I call him Steve even out of those jeans.”

The raised eyebrows and shit eating grins from both Clint and Natasha made him realise what he’d just uttered.

“Hmm, really? You sly dog.”

“Christ. No I mean, not _out,_ out of those jeans, but like at work too.”

“Oh, James, you’re absolutely riveting when you blush.”

“I’m not blushing,” he argued weakly. He could feel the heat in his cheeks, he was totally blushing like a teenager meeting their hero in the flesh.

“You want to see _Steve naked_.” Clint sing-songed.

“I do… not? Maybe - fuck off.”

“I knew it.” Natasha crowed.

“Knew what, you horrible excuse of a human?”

“That you two would get together. That’s some fucking chemistry right there, off the charts, _hell_ , Clint and I even had sex from the residual tension in the air after last Thursdays games night.”

“Holy shit, Nat. One, be quiet and two, ew. Clint naked, maybe, but I don’t want to think about you naked.”

“As you shouldn’t. I could have you sacked.” She smiled slyly at him, “or we could get you sacked - with Steve.”

“No, we are _not_ getting together. I most definitely don’t _like_ him, like him. He’s not my type.”

Natasha’s eyes were over his shoulder and she whispered, ‘shoot’ before leaning around Bucky and came back with a drink.

“Err, here’s your beer.” Steve looked down at his own drink then took a long sip once Bucky grabbed it, a lead weight settling in his gut.

Shit, shit, shit, did Steve overhear him? God he’d sounded like such a douche, more so than usual. To be fair though, it was Nat and Clint who pushed him into snapping the blatant lie, just to get them to lay off. He hated to be pigeonholed and he hated Natasha being right even more. Judging by the way Steve avoided talking directly to him for the rest of the evening, he’d heard some if not all of it.

Draining his beer and saying his goodnights to the group, not being able to hold Steve’s gaze, he wondered if in actuality it was a good thing. Because although Bucky finally admitted he found Steve absolutely mesmerising, he couldn’t possibly want more (if offered, which it wouldn't be) did he? He had a feeling maybe he did.

  
  


Bucky felt the tingle of tension in the air at their next CPC meeting. It was different from their old snark hate, but not as comfortable as their new found - would he call it friendship? Yeah, he would. They had been meeting twice a week for six weeks on the CPC and on top of that, Thursday nights for three weeks with Nat and Clint. Bucky was comfortable with calling it a friendship of sorts, even if he kept pushing down the idea he really wanted more than that. 

He knew he’d come across like an asshole at the pub, no wonder Steve had pulled back. No matter what words were said, his tone was practically vehement. 

Steve was pleasant enough during the meeting, both agreeing on a final plan for the party, but his responses were slightly muted and he wasn't as quick to smile. Bucky did not like how the change in demeanor sat in his gut.

Was he overreacting about a few offhand words spoken after too many beers? Steve probably didn’t actually even hear him, it was, after all, that horrible time of year where the senior managers were pressuring everyone for results. He wondered how much grief Fury was giving Steve over the Christmas financials, considering how hard he was hounding Bucky about their marketing strategy. 

Steve was just not, _Steve_ lately, and wasn’t that a novel thought, knowing what Steve’s usual moods were. He decided he quite liked knowing it.

“Right, so I think we’re good, the plan is solid and the venue is booked. I think we’re done, no more meetings except the last venue check.” Steve was placing papers into the Rudolph folder, not looking up as he arranged them in neat piles like a damn perfectionist.

“Oh, okay - of course.” Bucky responded, trying to remember it was just the CPC meetings that wouldn’t happen anymore - Steve was still coming to Thursday night games nights at Monroes’ right?

Steve finished packing up, and Bucky for some reason didn’t want to leave the meeting room straight away.

“So, any plans for the weekend?” he asked stalling.

Steve looked up surprised, _shit_ , this was off course from their usual conversations. Bucky had never really asked what activities the blonde did outside of work. Even at Monroes they were pleasant and joking, but never really got too personal.

“Actually, yeah, I do.” Steve’s hand snuck up to his neck and he scritched the back of it before lowering it to the table, face unreadable. “My friend Carol is setting me up with someone Saturday night, not sure how I feel about blind dates, but why not. Gotta try it sometime, you never know who you might connect with.”

Bucky’s stomach dropped to the floor, weighted down with lead. No, Steve wasn’t supposed to… what? Go out? Have a life? He couldn’t be a hypocrite like that, especially as he was still trying to figure out if making a move would be a good idea, or if Steve would even reciprocate. If he was going out with someone else, Bucky guessed he wasn’t really in the running in the first place.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. What do they say, gotta be in it to win it?”

“What about you, hot date as well?” Steve gave him a wry smile, words sounding strained.

“Nah, I’m a dick, no-one wants to date someone like that.” _Jesus Bucky_ , way to sound melodramatic, self-deprecating and whiny all in one go. It was meant to be a joke, it fell a little flat.

When Steve didn’t respond he looked up, not able to decipher the stare he was currently on the receiving end of. Was it, surprise with a hint of longing? Of course not. Steve was going on a date with someone else. Bucky needed fresh air and a session of League with Nat and Clint stat.

“Right, well, enjoy your date - hope it goes well.” Then he fled the room, leaving Steve behind, the lie he’d just utted like ash on his tongue.

  
  


It was a week prior to the Christmas party and Steve and Bucky were visiting the venue to organise decorations and meet the event coordinator, Jade, who would look after them on the night. Steve didn’t go to Monroes on Thursday night and Bucky couldn’t help but be curious if it had anything to do with his date going well. He tried not to think about it, but it was almost obsessively on a loop in his brain. So much so that as Jade left them in the storeroom to take a phone call, Bucky turned to Steve and blurted out what was on his mind.

“How did the date go? Well?” He was officially torturing himself.

Steve looked up, eyes wide and Bucky had another moment of astonishment at how blue and guileless they were. _Crap_ , he was not supposed to find Steve irresistible, not now.

“Oh, yeah. He was nice.”

Bucky looked over at the boxes next to him on the shelf hiding his grimace. “That’s great.”

“But I don’t think I’ll see him again.” Steve continued. “It just lacked spark I guess, you know that banter you get from a real connection?”

He knew exactly what Steve meant. Bucky really missed _their_ banter.

Relief that Steve wasn’t falling in love with some faceless lothario made Bucky relax further, so he decided to try and lighten the mood when he spied something in one of the many boxes littering the room.

“Hey Steve?”

“Yeah, Buck?” Steve replied softly, as he picked up a scary life-like Annabelle doll from a box, thrilled at Steve calling him his own version of nickname from his _actual_ nickname.

“Heads up.” He threw a massive blowup rooster he’d found at the blonde. “I didn’t know you had such a huge cock.”

“Really?” Steve deadpanned. “How old are you?”

“Told you already, I identify as twelve.”

Finally, he received a genuine smile. Small, but it was there. 

They moved around the room, peeking in different tubs, when Steve stilled as he looked over at Bucky, gaze flicking slightly above and to the left. Bucky frowned and turned, looking up. A box of Christmas decorations sat dangerously close to the edge of the shelving, errant pieces hanging out of it, including a plastic sprig of Mistletoe. How very convenient.

Not one to let an opportunity to tease Steve slide by, he smirked, “is this where I dare you to kiss me, Rogers?”

Bucky looked back around, then almost jumped out of his skin. Steve was right there, _right_ in front of him. Bucky didn’t even hear him move.

“A dare Buck? You sure? I never _could_ back down from a dare.” Steve asked quietly. Blue eyes intense as they gazed over Bucky’s entire face, resting on his lips momentarily before capturing his eyes again - all in the space of seconds. Bucky on the other hand had forgotten how to breathe, but managed a nonsensical nod. 

“Neither could I,” he rasped finally as white noise filled his brain, the static ramping up as Steve’s palm cupped his cheek and he moved minutely closer, expression unreadable. This was just a dare, wasn’t it?

Bucky closed his eyes as Steve’s breath tickled his lips and the softest pressure appeared on the small of his back as Steve’s other hand pulled him closer. _Oh god_ , this kiss was already better than any he’d ever experienced before, and Steve’s lips had yet to touch his.

A gentle press on his mouth startled him out of his rambling thoughts, and just as he managed to get with the program and push back, the door opened and Jade walked in.

“Oh, I’m so sorry…”

Bucky jumped away from Steve guiltily, not even sure why he felt guilt at being caught. He was a man, he liked men, he liked kissing men and sleeping with them. And with Steve, he wanted to do all of it. Desperately. 

But when he looked at Steve who’d already walked over to Jade to discuss colour schemes for the tables, he noticed he didn’t look as discombobulated as Bucky felt, he actually looked downright unaffected by the near kiss.

Ok then. Dare over.

When Bucky went over to argue the colour scheme, because really Steve, forest green was so overdone; he saw Steve’s lips tilt in a knowing and annoyed fashion, and they were back on an even playing field. But Bucky really didn’t want to be. He liked Steve, more than he should, and he realised as he watched the blonde light up over the Christmas decorations that he wanted more. And wasn't that an understatement.

  
  


“This is the best fucking Christmas party I have ever been to. I’m hiring you Barnes, _and_ your side-kick, the icy blonde over there. We can make little Christmas party babies and throw joy at people. Oh, shit, maybe not poor Joy, she’s in our processing team - right, Pep?”

Bucky chuckled as Tony Stark’s partner Pepper apologised for the hundredth time in three minutes and guided the Billionaire towards the non alcoholic sodas. He glanced over at his ‘icy’ blonde counterpart, who even though Tony was making a crack about, was _actually_ acting a little cool towards Bucky. He thought about the near kiss, wondering if that was why things were a little - tense.

“Nice job, James.” Natasha spoke from his left shoulder, her line of sight following Bucky's straight to Steve in his very well fitting suit. He wasn’t even going to try and lie and say he was watching Steve purely to ask his tailors name. 

“Well, without Steve it would have been…” he trailed off. 

"Yes it would have, wouldn’t it?"

Bucky swung his gaze back to Natasha, giving her a tight smile.

“James, why don't you -”

“- can’t you call me Bucky like everyone else?” he interrupted, not really wanting to get into anything too profound with Natasha. 

“You’re not twelve, no matter what you tell people - so no.” She didn't continue her previous train of thought, she knew him well enough.

He ran a hand through his hair _,_ letting it settle around his face a moment before pushing it back behind his ears, a nervous gesture which Nat caught.

"I'm going to check the other floor, make sure they have everything they need. Be back soon."

She smiled softly and toasted him with her gin, before heading off to find Clint.

Honestly, he was beyond happy with the way the night turned out; the party a roaring success. They’d hired a huge space over two floors, the upstairs area had amazing views over a vibrant New York skyline and offered a bottomless list of cocktails, canapes (with no salmon), a dessert bar and a band which played everything from the Rolling Stones to Hozier. The second floor was utter chaos, every kind of arcade and interactive game filled the room, there was a whack-a-reindeer, hoops, croquet and the more traditional gaming machines, including GP motorbike racing (on actual bikes) and good old Zombie hunting shoot-em-ups. Each game gave out tickets which people could present to the counter and swap for an array of old school and more mature prizes. His favorites a toss up being a Gizmo plush and a Ghostbusters Slimer fart putty - both spoke to his level of maturity. Most people were aiming for the bottle of Moey.

He was still surprised that Steve and he had agreed on all aspects of the Christmas show. Though thinking back to their planning phase, once the truce had been called it was relatively simple and they had the same kind of ideas. Well, they slotted their individual ideas together and made it work.

“I told you cronuts would have been more popular than a donut rack.”

Bucky scoffed, then took in all that Steve Rogers presented that evening. Hair coiffed to the side, blue eyes sparkling from one too many champagnes and a deep blue suit which was criminal on his body. His own black on black suit actually complimented Steve’s, they down right looked brilliant together.

“I disagree, at least ten donuts have been taken so far.”

“It was all Clint.”

“And… yeah you’re right. Want to go shoot some Zombies?”

“Absolutely.” Steve grinned blindingly back, “get ready to go down, Buck.”

Bucky swallowed tightly at the words, wanting nothing more than to go down on Steve, but alas - the phrase was not intended in that way. _Pity_ , he’d been told he sucked cock quite brilliantly. Bucky also realised he’d maybe had one or two too many drinks. His thoughts were getting loose. 

They comendered the game and both shrugged off their suit jackets, Bucky almost calling uncle when Steve unbuttoned and rolled up his shirt sleeves, unveiling muscular forearms to grip the gun sniper-like. Was swooning something men did in this day and age? Well they should when Steve got his arms out. _Christ_ , he was gorgeous, joking and calling Bucky all the names under the sun to throw him off his game. 

Hell, if Steve knew all he had to do was undo two shirt buttons and Bucky would be a puddle of ineptness of the floor, he was certain the blonde would use it as a tactical advantage. Bucky kind of hoped he would - he wouldn’t mind losing under those conditions. Or just, you know, being _under_ Steve - he’d take either.

It only took ten minutes until Bucky had gone from heart eyes to a frowny face. Steve was good, almost better than him, and at every turn he was getting more and more annoyed that he couldn’t beat him outright. He knew it was partly the alcohol he consumed and the frustration of wanting Steve yet not actually being able to do anything about it. Bucky felt childish at his welling petulance, but after another twenty minutes he’d had enough.

“I’m done.”

“Ooh, Buck - can’t handle the heat.” Steve teased and Bucky merely flipped him off and walked away.

He needed space to calm down from the ridiculousness of his overreaction and he also needed to skull a water. A few minutes later, scotch in hand, he found a dark vacant room on a lower level, the view out to New York absolutely spectacular and he breathed in his love for this city, letting it soothe his tantrum.

“Hey, that was rude. You’re being a dick.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and took another sip of his drink. Of course Steve would follow, _and_ call him a dick.

“I _am_ a dick. You know this - firsthand.” he snapped back. Clearly annoyance still rode his overall mood.

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Talk about yourself in such a self-depreciating way.”  
“Better me than the next person.” He stated matter of fact, not feeling particularly worthy of Steve’s concern. He’d had just enough scotch to be surly - _great._

“Jesus, Buck - stop.”

“Stop what?” he replied, “being me? Little hard.”

Suddenly Steve was before him, crowding dangerously, a shiver of fear ran through Bucky until he realised it wasn’t threatening. It was… something else entirely - _oh._

“Well it’s extremely lucky I happen to _like_ who you are. Even if you make it almost impossible to get close.” Steve husked.

Bucky stared disbelieving for a second, did Steve really mean that? 

Losing the last of his sanity, he looked up through his lashes at Steve, “pal, you can get as close as you’d like. _Please_.”

Not certain if it was the small plea at the end which galvanised Steve into action, but suddenly his entire body was pressed against Bucky. He stumbled back until his thighs hit a table, Steve’s mouth chasing his. 

Lips, soft and warm pressed against his, before opening slightly to tease a response; and he was embarrassed to admit his brain flagged again _Shit_ , he was supposed to reciprocate. Bucky rallied his splintering thoughts that Steve was kissing him, and opened his mouth in return, tongue immediately seeking the warmth of Steve’s mouth. _Holy hell_ , it must be what perfection tasted like, Steve _and_ donuts.

The Steve Rogers of his imagination had nothing on what he felt like in person. Bucky was going to come in his pants in ten seconds the rate this was going.

“Christ, I’ve wanted to do that for weeks,” Steve said as he nipped at Bucky’s lips, who in turn could only helplessly chase after him, stunned at the revelation. “Your smart mouth just does things to me.”

“You have no idea what my smart mouth is capable of,” Bucky murmured back, capturing Steve’s lips again, pressing hard before ruthlessly showering him with deep, long, open-mouthed kisses.

A low growl began deep in Steve's diaphragm and Bucky had never experienced tingling throughout his entire body at just a sound prior to that. His cock strained between their bodies and when Steve rubbed up against him, he felt something utterly mouthwatering pressing back.

“Steve…” he managed to garble before slipping a hand between them to cup what could only be explained away as his cause of death. Death by cock, _oh God_ , death by a rogering from Rogers. It was too perfect.

Suddenly a noise between a moan and a whine left Steve as Bucky slipped the blondes zipper down slowly, teasing, pushing against the strain. Steve’s hands came up and cupped both sides of Bucky’s face and he systematically tore Bucky apart with the sweetness, the reverence with which he kissed, while Bucky the heathen, went straight for the grope. He mentally shrugged, there was no way that now he'd had an opportunity to get his hands on Steve he could possibly be happy with just making out. He really fucking adored the way Steve kissed though, with his entire focus, his entire body.

Bucky managed to undo Steve’s belt and in one swift move, spun them so Steve was against the table instead. He felt the shock of movement ripple through Steve who’d been lost in the kisses, until he came to the realisation of what Bucky was about to do. Suit pants and underwear were wrenched down to mid-thigh as Bucky dropped to his knees. Steve's gorgeous cock bobbing out into the crisp air. Bucky couldn’t help lick his lips in pure anticipation, his body vibrated with desire. He was so turned on.

“Buck…” Steve started, “you don’t have -”

“- if you say I don’t have to, then you don’t know me well enough. I’ve wanted to do this for - well, let’s just say for a long while.”

Steve’s sharp inhale at his own revelation satisfying, but not as satisfying as what he now craved most in the world. Steve - coming hard down his throat.

Bucky needed to taste the blonde, know what sounds he made, know how quick or long it would take to come, how long it could take _Bucky_ to make him come. He wanted to know it all.

He licked one long stripe up the underside of Steve’s dick, the blonde’s thighs tightened up as a hand grasped his head and tugged Bucky’s hair making him groan. “Jesus, you’re unbelievable, so gorgeous. Even your goddamn hair, Buck, it’s so fucking beautiful.”

Pleased at the garbled compliments spilling from Steve’s mouth, Bucky swirled his tongue around the head before taking him into the heat of his mouth. Steve’s cock was warm and slightly salty, and Bucky sucked quick and sharp for a few seconds, making the man above him shudder and tug unintentionally harder on his hair. A moan of absolute pleasure left his throat, Bucky loved it.

Placing his fist around the base of Steve’s dick, he began to upstroke with each bob of his head, twisting his wrist the way _he_ liked, pleased when Steve slumped back further on the table with a garbled ‘fuck, yes’. 

Bucky saw Steve’s legs trying and failing to fall further apart, but due to the restriction of his pants around his thighs he couldn’t. He was thrilled at having Steve partially bound, unwilling to let him move too much until he’d finished doing what he pleased. The possessiveness which welled at being the one to control Steve’s orgasm, to control his pleasure made his own cock twitch in his too tight pants. There was no way he’d come untouched, just from touching Steve. Surely not?

He couldn’t help but take it further, very aware that they were still at a work function and even though the room was partially dark if caught it could turn into a very awkward and potentially career ending situation. He placed a finger in his mouth beside Steve’s cock, wetting it completely, the sudden sound from above him wrecked. _Shit,_ Steve’s noises went straight through him, he knew immediately he was going to remember them for the rest of his days.

Bucky slipped the spitslicked finger behind Steve, who had enough sense of mind to know what was coming and keened beautifully while rocking his hips. Bucky inhaled deeply through his nose, so as not to choke when Steve jerked involuntary forward. Christ, he loved feeling so full like this, used, complete in a way that gave pleasure.

His finger pressed against the tight ring of Steve’s hole, pulsing with gentle teases, until just the tip was sucked in with pressure. He continued to push further into Steve’s tightness, then back out, then repeated the motion again and again, gaining more and more depth. The bellow above him when he'd pushed in as far as he could go on this angle, making him smirk around Steve's cock.

“Oh, God, shit, you're… I want… I want...” Steve rasped out above him almost incoherently.

Bucky popped his mouth off his cock reluctantly, finger still deep within Steve. “I got you, sweetheart - I know what you want. Just relax, I’ll look after you.”

It only took until Bucky crooked his finger whilst simultaneously sucking him deep into his throat for Steve’s body to tauten up and shake from within. He came hard and fast down Bucky’s throat; who swallowed greedily, capturing all he could manage until it leaked from the sides of his mouth. Contentment flew through him at being able to give Steve this release, but it wasn’t over - he wanted to give Steve _so_ much more.

“Buck, god… that was…” Bucky licked up all the residual mess as Steve babbled above him, savouring the taste and the knowledge that he did this. He stood up, knowing he had the biggest grin on his face, which lasted all of two seconds as Steve dropped to his knees and reciprocated.

And holy fuck in heaven, could Steven Grant Rogers suck cock.

It was over embarrassingly quick and Bucky had to count backwards from ten just to be able to think linear again. The smugness he’d previously felt, now mirrored on Steve’s face as he looked up wide-eyed and gloating.

“Fuck Steve, this was _not_ a competition.”

“It’s always a competition with you. Plus, if I knew all I had to do to shut you up was put a dick in your mouth - I would have done this years ago.” He smirked as he used a thumb to wipe the corner of his mouth, licking it clean and Bucky was done. Death by Rogers was a legitimate thing.

“You’re going to kill me, you know that right, you punk?”

Steve stood, grinning widely and Bucky caught his breath, jeez, this guy was a little bit perfect. They took a moment to tuck themselves back into their respective suits, Steve looking uncertain for a second before speaking.

"I hope you know I didn’t come find you with the intent - to, well, you know.”

“Oh really Rogers? You sure about that?" this time the old nickname came out teasing and light, Steve’s eyes softened.

“Actually, I came to bring you a cronut, I snuck them in with the catering order.”

Bucky laughed, “You sneaky shit. Lucky you’re a good looking one. Where is it - I’m starved.”

Steve beamed and passed over the pastry.

They snuck off to the bathroom before rejoining the party, ensuring that their escapade left no residual telltale signs. Bucky could only imagine trying to explain away a white smeared stain on his suit pants as egg whites from the dessert bar. Explaining his permanent hard-on would be trickier as Steve pushed him against a stall door licking deeply into his mouth, and Bucky had to readjust himself for the fourth time that night. Rogers tongue was a menace.

When they walked (stumbled) back into the main room and parted to mingle, it seemed that for all their supposed clean-up, Natasha didn’t need any visual cues.

“Here? Really? Well I’m not one for public indecency," Clint scoffed and she gave him daggers before continuing, “but about time. I’m happy for you both. Really.”

“Thanks Nat,” Bucky said as he pulled her in for a side-hug, watching Steve as he spoke to Bruce across the room, glancing his way with a goofy grin every couple of seconds. Bucky was fairly certain his face held the exact same expression. They’d not said it implicitly, but Bucky was certain it was not a one-time thing. “Pretty sure Steve and I are going to kick your ass at Pictionary next Thursday.”

“You wish. Getting each other off _once_ doesn’t mean you have a connection like Clint and I do - we know what the other is drawing before we even put pencil to paper.”

“Well, Thursday is at least five days away, can guarantee you it’ll potentially in the hundreds by then. We’ll be experts.”

“Eww, James. I think you’re forgetting I’m your HR Manager.”

Bucky laughed, “you can’t keep pulling that line when I talk about things you don’t want to hear - although I think you actually _like_ hearing it. Right, I’m going to find Tony, see if I can beat his score on Space Invaders.”

Steve wandered in half an hour later as he and Tony competed in a boisterous duel for the top score, which Bucky thankfully took out. Tony seemed to hold his liquor extremely well when competing and he wondered if the Billionaire playboy had more substance to him than he showed the public. He looked forward to working with him in the future.

The warm hand Steve placed on the small of his back as they joked with Pepper and Tony afterwards felt nice. He liked it, he liked the possessive gesture Steve was unafraid to show. It made him more certain he wasn’t the only one feeling overwhelmed by the change in their friendship and needing an anchor.

They were about to make their goodbyes, and check in with Jade one last time before Bucky dragged Steve home, planning to take him apart for the rest of the night when Fury caught them.

“Steve, James,” he boomed, “this party was the greatest, well done.”

“Thanks, Nicholas. Glad you liked what we came up with.” Steve replied, always so very polite.

“I’ll admit, when Natasha came to me with your names to organise this, I was skeptical. Never seemed like you two got along, but she was right.” He trailed off and frowned, “actually, do not tell her I said that. I don’t want her gloating."

Fury left a slack jawed Bucky next to Steve, he turned slowly to the blonde and grimaced.

“Fuck, does that mean Natasha set this whole thing up - from the start?”

Steve chuckled and leaned in to kiss the top of Bucky’s brow.

“Yeah, I guess so. We should get her a basket of cronuts.”

“Oh for the love of God, let them go - donuts will always be superior.” Bucky was never going to admit how amazing the cronut he’d eaten before tasted. He was blaming the mind-blowing headjob for his taste buds lapse in judgement.

  
  


They hadn’t even made it through Bucky’s front door before he had Steve pinned to the wall, leaving a hot trail of kisses up his neck, making the blonde’s entire body shiver and tense with need at each suckle and bite. Bucky was almost overwhelmed at all the things he wanted to do to Steve. But in particular he craved one thing and he hoped Steve would be onboard.

Kissing along Steve’s jaw he leaned in and whispered violently, “How would you feel if I cleaned you up real good, because I want nothing more than to eat you out until you’re begging to be fucked into my mattress all night.”

Leaning back out as Steve’s throat clicked with no noise, he found blown blue eyes staring back at him. Clearly his crude words did something for Steve as he gasped and surged forward for another sloppy kiss, “uh, yes, just, christ - a million times yes.”

Bucky chuckled before leading Steve to the bathroom, pure unadulterated desire coursing through his veins as the man practically stumbled behind him, too turned on to function without guidance. It was god damn hot as hell.

Steve’s suit crumpled in the corner of the bathroom after Bucky had thoroughly licked and worshipped each inch of skin as it became uncovered. Steve’s body thrummed and quivered with even the lightest of touches, leaving him flushed red and gasping. Bucky finally turned the shower on, allowing Steve a small reprieve from his ministrations as he placed him under the warm stream of water. 

Stripping off to join him, Bucky pushed a compliant Steve against the wall of the shower, soaping up his hands quickly, then slowly and meticulously washed him, from his toes all the way up to the base of his neck. Steve braced himself on the wall, head resting on his forearms as he let small mewls of pleasure escape, gasping Bucky’s name every so often like a mantra, like a prayer. Bucky hadn’t even got to the good stuff yet.

He teased and trailed his fingers over Steve's cock as he cleaned, never giving enough pressure to sate, nor ignoring it completely. He was in pure heaven having free reign over this Adonis before him. For all of the hate, the snark the underlying attraction, he couldn't actually believe Steve was here with him, here now, at his mercy. But he was damned glad he was.

Finally as Steve wriggled and arched uncontrollably, cheeks ruddy and jaw slack, Bucky began the slow methodical task of giving Steve’s ass attention. His fingers dipped into his tightness easily, over and over again, but not too deep, Bucky was playing, learning, adapting. The sharp curses Steve let loose heaven to his ears. He was the one who made Steve gasp, he also wanted to be the last as well. He realised instantly he never wanted to share Steve with anyone ever. Instead of it scaring him, he felt a rightness settle inside.

Just when Steve began to beg, Bucky dropped to his knees behind the blonde, spreading his cheeks, looking his fill at the beautiful hole fluttering under his gaze. Water cascaded down Steve's shoulders over his back, making it glisten enticingly. Steve moaned embarrassed and Bucky shushed him.

“You’re gorgeous, Steve, utterly perfect, in every way.”

The blonde cursed again as Bucky moved him out of the direct spray and finally flicked the pad of his thumb over the pinkness, before dipping it in again easily. At the full body shudder, Bucky couldn’t take it anymore and fell forward, tongue flicking and teasing the ring of muscle. Steve’s legs trembled with the angle, but he didn’t ask Bucky to stop or change positions and he was glad. He had him exactly where he wanted. Bucky held Steve open and pushed in as far as he could go, curling his tongue as he fucked him with it, before retreating to lathe with long luscious strokes interspersed with soft wriggling motions. He repeated this over and over again, until Steve was a whimpering mess above him, incoherent mumbles all that fell from his mouth.

Bucky finally grabbed Steve’s cock, stroking deftly as he once more slid his tongue in as far as possible. 

Steve came almost instantaneously with a violent shudder. It was the most glorious thing Bucky had ever felt, Steve's ass clenching and twitching tightly on his tongue. He knew his face was spit slick and red, but hell - Steve was the most responsive lover he’d ever tongue fucked. He was going to do that again and again - often.

He managed to get a slightly unsteady Steve out of the shower (after a secondary clean, or was it a thirdary?) and into a fresh towel to dry him down. The hooded gaze of a well satisfied man stared down at him as Bucky patted his calves and ankles dry, eyes full of an emotion Bucky didn’t want to guess at, knowing his own mirrored it. But if Steve thought Bucky was finished, well he was in for a surprise.

“You still good, sweetheart? Need anything?”

“Buck…” his voice hoarse, he tried again, “Buck, I want… no, I need you to fuck me.”

He held his breath a second, “anything you want, gorgeous.”

Leading Steve to his bed was an almost ethereal experience. The large man pliant under his hands and so very soft. It was quite frankly adorable, and Bucky wondered if it was how Steve always reacted after an orgasm, or if there was some other emotion riding him to be so beautifully spaced out. Bucky’s ego hoped it was because of him.

Steve was already loose from Bucky’s tongue and fingers, but he took his time using lube slicked digits pushing and twisting to have Steve begin to harden once more. He wanted Steve completely fucked out and unable to orgasm again. Soon Steve was panting and begging to be filled by his cock. And who was Bucky to deny such gorgeous pleas. 

He slid in deeply after a few careful pulses, then stopped to stare down into bright blue eyes. This here, this feeling of being in Steve, the tightness, the feeling of belonging was something new, and also something Bucky could no longer go without. He leaned down to kiss Steve reverently. Steve wasn’t having any of it.

“Move, damn it.”

“Bossy much.”

“I swear to god if you don’t -” Bucky pulled out and slammed back in - once. 

“You fucking tease.” Steve moaned a second later, eyes scrunched up in pleasure.

He chuckled, then began in earnest, fucking Steve relentlessly, in a rythym that was neither too fast nor too slow. Steve writhed under him, panting and growling for him to go faster. Bucky didn’t. He’d made a promise to himself that he’d make Steve fall apart, and he was almost there.

Sweat pooled on both of them as Bucky continued snapping his hips, finally shifting Steve's leg up to gain deeper penetration.

“Oh, fuck…” Steve growled at the slight change of position.

Bucky began to quicken his pace in increments, he wasn’t going to be able to last as long as he wanted, he’d craved this too long. Grasping Steve’s cock, he jerked him off at the same time he lost control over his hips, pummeling into him until they were both gasping for air, chasing their release.

Then Bucky finally hit a spot which resulted in Steve becoming a bumbling mess, he slammed in, hitting it again and again, until Steve stiffened up with a cry, coming messily between them. Bucky following soon after, feeling like he could have filled three condoms in one orgasm.

They lay sweaty for a moment, catching their respective breaths before Bucky got up shakily to get something to clean them off with and dispose of the condom. Steve was half asleep, completely spent by the time he returned, making tired noises. Bucky smiled down at him, content in a way he hadn’t been in years.

Blue eyes opened as Bucky cleaned him up and Steve smiled lazily. “That was, fuck. That was extraordinary.”

Smirking, Bucky climbed in beside Steve who immediately rolled over and pulled him into a cuddle, then was asleep in seconds. Bucky followed soon after, content, sated and already more than half in love.

  
  


Bucky was the first awake, so he slithered from the bed silently to start the coffee machine. Usually he was up and already at the gym, but after the work out the night before, and in the early hours of the morning, he figured he deserved a day off. Mostly he hoped it would mean Steve might stick around for a bit. He wanted to lounge on the couch watching movies, maybe Scrooged if he were lucky (and if Steve _actually_ wanted to stay, of course). They never got around to discussing what this _thing_ between them was. But the fact Steve didn’t take off the night before was a good sign - right?

Sleepy blue eyes greeted him when he returned with two steaming hot mugs of freshly brewed caffeine, and Steve took his gratefully, wincing slightly as he sat up. Bucky flushed with pride at being the reason Steve was sore, he desperately wanted to kiss it better. But, coffee first.

"Cheers to us for a brilliant party.” He held up his R2D2 mug and clinked it with Steve’s which had Piglet saying “thank fuck it’s Friday’ on it. Steve laughed when he saw it and shook his head.

“Yep, Fury is over the moon, great idea for the games room and prizes."

"Why, is that a compliment I smell?"

"Yeah, yeah, you know you did good.” Steve took a long sip, then slid closer to Bucky when he climbed back in bed until their shoulders met, Bucky’s heart thumped faster at the gesture.

“Eventually." Steve tacked on as he inhaled the aroma of his coffee, a pleased smile on his face. 

"Ha, eventually. I still stand by every idea I ever gave you."

Steve chuckled and took a sip, then placed the mug down on the bedside table. Turning to Bucky he cupped his face, thumb dragging across his cheekbone, “you don’t mind if... I mean - mind me touching you now?”

Warmth infused Bucky's chest. “You can anytime, Pal - anytime.” 

The smile from Steve beaming as he leaned in and left a way too chaste kiss to Bucky’s lips, fingers dropping to smooth across his collarbone, then lower. Bucky gulped and put his own mug down.

“I have to say, I had an idea of what was hiding under your clothes, but it was like nothing on this planet seeing it in person.” Steve stopped, clearly thinking about his next words, finger still trailing across Bucky’s chest. “I’m going to admit something slightly embarrassing now, but - you and your damn three piece suits, Buck. Fuck, they got me so worked up, especially the way you take off the jacket, like you're undressing for sex.”

Bucky stared wide-eyed at Steve’s confession, but he wasn’t finished.

“Jesus, every meeting we had together, whether it was for the Christmas party or for the department, you’d come in and undress, _each_ and _every_ time. Not going to lie, I really wanted you to just continue one day, wondering how I could get you to take the rest of your clothes off.”

Bucky’s stomach bottomed out at the words, “Fury would probably not have been onboard for that.”

The huff of laughter sounded sweet as Steve snuck in another kiss, which still wasn’t long enough, not by a long shot.

“But, uh, if we giving full disclosure about clothing related kinks. Those goddamn jeans, Rogers. What the hell?”

Steve smirked, “don’t think I didn’t notice you staring at my ass while we played pool every week.”

“You little shit, I did, every damn time. I’m not going to deny it. But, were you messing with me?”

“I had to do something, you fucking drove me crazy.”

“ _I_ drove _you_ crazy?”

“Seriously, your quips, the way your eyes crinkle up when you smile, your snarky anger, the damn glitter bomb in my cupboard - I just wanted to throw you down so we could fuck each other relentlessly. Have from day one.”

Bucky’s mouth went dry, “why didn’t you then?”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck, Bucky now realising it was a nervous tick, something Steve did when he felt uncertain with what he was saying. He placed a hand on Steve’s thigh to reassure that what he said wasn’t unwelcome, a large hand covered his soon after, fingers tangling with his.

“Hell, I wanted to, I really did. But I opened my trap that first meeting and without realising it tore down your idea, which to be fair was a great concept but just wouldn’t have worked at that time, and we just never saw eye to eye again.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows, he didn’t remember their original sin as it were, Steve obviously did. He continued on before Bucky could respond.

“Then we started to work together on Christmas and I realised how much I actually liked you, especially when on Thursday’s we fell into something resembling a friendship. But just as I was about to pursue you in earnest, I overheard you tell Natasha emphatically you didn’t like me like that. So, I didn’t try, until I lost my resolve when you were standing under that damn mistletoe. I couldn’t help myself when you dared me, your lips looked so delicious and when I felt you kiss back for that second, I started to gain hope again.”

Bucky tried to assimilate all that Steve had just unloaded. “Oh god, well first up, yes, my lips are damn delicious thank you very much. And secondly, Natasha and Clint are just too damn nosy for their own good and I was trying to tell them I _wasn’t_ attracted to you but only because they thought I was.”

“So they were wrong?” Steve asked, brow furrowed.

“Christ no, I just hate when people think they know me, especially when they are right.”

“So…” Steve drew out the word with a small grin.

“Yes, you moron, you are very much my type and if you're amenable, I would like to date the shit out of you.”

“Oh, thank god.”

Steve crashed into him, capturing his mouth as he covered Bucky’s body with his own. Bucky responded in kind, letting the kiss last for minutes, or it could have been hours, his time management wasn’t great when Steve’s mouth was on him.

Later in the morning, completely exhausted and very much in need of a shower, Bucky threw an arm over his face, gathering his thoughts and trying not to pant obviously. He'd not had a workout like that in a long time. If they kept this up, maybe he could forgo his gym membership?

“I think we should have a shower, make breakfast, then spend the rest of the day on the couch watching tv and making out… maybe more if you’re up for it?”

“That’s quite possibly the best idea you’ve actually come up with so far.”

“What, my pole dancing idea wasn’t the best? I thought it was up there honestly.” Bucky asked with a smile.

Steve chuckled, “so I’m wondering, did you actually try the pole dancing lesson before you suggested it?”

Bucky smirked, “maybe.”

“Did you get the costume?”

The smile widened, “why, Mr Rogers are you asking to see my sequined panties?”

Steve groaned and squirmed in the bed, “and if I was?”

“Oh, I think we are going to get along just fine.” Bucky drew Steve into the circle of his arms, as Steve pressed his cheek against his chest. “But actually, I just remembered - we need to spend a fair chunk of our day drawing.”

Steve looked up, clearly confused at the turn of conversation, “what? Draw? Like with pencil and paper?" At Bucky's nod he grinned, "not going to lie, but I’m pretty good.”

“You know what, you're pretty perfect in every way aren’t you?” Steve hummed happily against his skin. “But, we _have_ to beat Nat and Clint at Pictionary at Monroes on Thursday.”

The sharp bark of laughter made him grin happily, “we do?”

“It’s a matter of pride now.”

“Sure, Buck, whatever you want.”

Bucky smirked as Steve leaned up to kiss him deeply, and he was pretty certain he already had everything he wanted now. Including things he didn't even know he needed.

“Is the offer of food and sex still availalble today, between the drawing?”

“That was never in question,” Bucky replied with a smile. 

Maybe after everything, he didn’t dislike Christmas as much as he’d first thought. After all - it did bring him Steve. But he was drawing the line at getting a tree. Well maybe he’d buy a small one - but only if Steve asked.

**Author's Note:**

> If you are interested in seeing how I pictured these boys click [ here](https://kalee60.tumblr.com/post/189678850769/some-very-thorough-research-went-into-finding) for a glimpse!


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